


Contradiction

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Polyamory, Rimming, Sex Toys, Spanking, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a foolish mistake, Jim faces simultaneous and contrary punishment at the hands of his two (evil) boyfriends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contradiction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [s0mmerspr0ssen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0mmerspr0ssen/gifts).



> A/N: Holiday ‘drabble’ for s0mmersp0ssen [on tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/66814629392/musing) who wanted “dom!Spock/dom!Bones giving sub!Jim a hard time by giving him contradicting orders”. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

As soon as he steps off the transporter pad, bruised and panting and otherwise triumphant, he knows he’s in trouble. 

Spock’s subtle, of course. He stands, stiff as a board, with his hands behind his back and his expression neutral. Jim knows him better than that. Jim sees the trouble in those dark eyes, and he opens his mouth to explain. 

There’s nothing subtle about Bones. He steps up before Jim can do anything, running the tricorder over him in a frenzy and all but ignoring the two security men behind him, equally as damaged. “Honestly,” Bones huffs, and he flitters around behind Jim to stick some sort of round sensor to his face. “Running off like that on your own—you could’ve been killed down there!”

“I hardly ran off,” Jim mutters, pulling the instrument off and passing it back to his growling physician. “I’m the captain, and last I checked, that gives me the privilege to set my own away teams. ...And I was hardly alone...”

“It was far too dangerous to send the captain on,” Spock says. At the controls, Scotty’s unusually silent, probably sensing the tension in the air. Bones finally moves on to the other two men. 

Jim stands awkwardly in the little transporter room, wanting to wait for Bones before he leaves and knowing it won’t end here. Best to let Bones get it out now. In his defense, he shrugs. “I didn’t know they were actually going to start flinging rocks at us...”

“You didn’t know because you didn’t think!” Bones cuts in. Jim knows better than to argue, but he does shoot Bones a warning look—there will be no undermining him in public. The security men, like Scotty, seem to be firmly staying out of it. 

As soon as Bones is done, Jim starts to walk, and the two blue shirts in the room fall into line on either side of him. They head through the open doors, all to the bridge, naturally, and he mutters a quiet, “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“You’re in trouble,” Bones hisses, at least low enough that a passing ensign can’t hear them. 

Spock reiterates, solid and unwavering, “For once, Captain, Dr. McCoy and I are in agreement.” Well, that’s a start. It does make him worry, though. 

He’s yet to be punished in tandem by them, and just what that’ll entail, he has no idea. He reaches the turbolift, and just then, the two simultaneously split, continuing to walk in opposite directions down either end of the hall. Jim, caught off guard, takes a step back from the opening lift. But they should’ve both gone to the bridge. He doesn’t know who to follow. Obviously, he needs to follow one, but they’re both walking briskly and nearing the ends of their respective halls. He doesn’t know where they’re going. 

When they’re both gone from sight, he enters the turbolift alone, jilted. Maybe their discipline won’t come together after all.

* * *

Jim’s got half a shift left, and he spends most of it on the bridge with neither of his two favourite men. He’s still sore from the mission, but he doesn’t want to show weakness by skipping a shift for sickbay when he’s not even bleeding. He sits in the chair Sulu kept warm for him, and he tries to focus on the rotating planet beneath the viewscreen instead of thoughts of what tonight will entail. 

An hour before he’s off, the bridge doors open, and Jim automatically looks back to check. Spock walks in, holding a PADD that he brings directly to Jim’s chair. Jim takes it and gives the screen a peripheral scan, but there don’t seem to be any hidden messages. There don’t have to be. 

Spock’s voice is far more effective. Spock leans down and whispers fast in Jim’s ear, expression calm as though discussing regular ship functions, “When you are relieved of duty, you will retire to your own quarters, where you will strip yourself bare and kneel in front of your bed, waiting for my arrival. You will not touch yourself. Do you understand?” Jim nods obediently and half expects a ‘good boy,’ but doesn’t get one. 

Spock straightens, retrieves the PADD, and goes to sit at his science station. Jim’s left to cross his legs and adjust his shirt, trying not to think about how much he just might enjoy his punishment. Being naked and on his knees for Spock isn’t at all a position he minds. He can’t help but lick his lips—there’s something about Vulcan cum that just feels _right_ on his tongue. Or maybe he was just meant to have Spock in his mouth. 

But he’s still on duty, and he can’t think of that. Maybe half his punishment is having to wait. It’s cruel, really. He fidgets in his seat and tries to focus on the current mission. He draws up numbers on the panel of his armrest just for something to look at. 

He’s hyper aware of Spock behind him, working away as though nothing’s wrong. If he could just wander over to Spock’s station... but he knows better than that. Maybe he should visit sickbay, after all. Down there, with Bones, at least they could get some privacy...

But Bones is angry with him too, he has to remember, and he tries vainly to redirect his brain again. 

About half an hour later, the doors open again. Bones walks straight in, comes right to Jim’s chair, and puts a firm hand on Jim’s shoulder. No one spares them a second glance—of course Bones would try to be dragging him down for a check-up after an away mission. 

“You’ll come to sickbay after you shift,” Bones says gruffly—doctor’s orders. But then he leans down to growl in Jim’s ear, “And there you’ll strip everything off and get on all fours on my table like the dog you are. I don’t think I need to tell you not to touch yourself.” Jim fidgets again, body automatically responding. 

He tries to look up and explain that Spock’s given him separate orders—what is he supposed to do? This isn’t like them. They’re often at odds, but they’re intelligent men and they know how this relationship works; they’re usually better coordinated. Bones squeezes Jim’s shoulder in warning and turns to walk off. 

Jim automatically gets out of his chair to follow—he hast to clean this up—but he spots Spock’s glare and freezes, knowing he’s being told not to move. Spock’s eyes subtly shift to Jim’s chair, and Jim, tense with nerves, sits down.

* * *

There isn’t a chance to speak with Spock for the rest of the alpha shift, and at the end, he disappears before Jim can grab him. It leaves Jim in the awful lurch of leaving his bridge and not knowing where to head. The only thing he knows for sure is that he has to strip and he can’t touch himself, but he can hardly do that in the hallway. 

It takes Jim a good five minutes to decide, but he finally heads for his own quarters simply because they’re closer and where he’d usually go. He spends the entire walk scrambling his head for how to make it up to Bones. He knows he’s in far worse trouble than before. He could never choose between them, loves them both too much, but this can only look like he did. 

His quarters are empty, or at least, the entrance is, but once he makes his way to his bedroom, he finds Bones sprawled out on his bed. Bones climbs off it with a hard look and a growled, “So, you picked the hobgoblin, huh?”

Jim turns a faint pink and kicks his shoes off. There’s nothing to say stripping will fix this, and he knows that when he’s being punished, he’s not supposed to talk, especially if Bones wants him to be a dog. He pulls his shirts off his head two at a time and works on his belt, all too aware of the eyes on him. Bones stands in the corner, leaning against the wall, arms crossing. Jim shuffles out of his pants and underwear and doesn’t make any effort to cover himself, head hung. 

He was supposed to come here and kneel, but he climbs onto the bed on all fours anyway, hoping to appease Bones, at least a little. He looks down at his own mattress and tries not to think about how Bones clearly knew he’d disobey. Bones steps closer and runs a hand over Jim’s shoulder, making Jim shiver. If he didn’t know better, he’d blurt that he’s sorry, and he doesn’t love Spock more, he just didn’t know what to do. 

Bones is uncharacteristically quiet while he inspects Jim’s body, walking around it and prodding it here and there, nudging Jim’s knees further apart and pushing his head down. Bones’ calloused fingers run from the top of Jim’s spine down to his lower back, palming his tailbone. Between Jim’s legs, his cock isn’t as flaccid as it should be. Bones’ hands have that effect on him: best hands on the ship, indeed. When Bones reaches his ass, Jim pushes himself out, wanting to meet it. He hears Bones’ chuckle, turns redder, and doesn’t stop arching into the touch. He’s supposed to be being punished, but Bones’ hands on his ass can only be a good thing. 

Then Bones’ hands pull away, Jim feels empty, and he’s abruptly swatted across both cheeks so hard that he yelps. Jim looks over his shoulder but doesn’t dare move away—he sees the next blow coming. This just hits his left cheek, but the right is slapped after, and then he’s being hit across both of them. It stings and warms him up, smarting, but Jim takes it and struggles to keep in place, the next few blows hard enough to nearly knock him down. Bones smacks his ass over and over again until his thighs are trembling, until his fingers are fists in the blankets. The blows keep coming. Jim’s mouth has to stay open, gasping for breath and occasionally biting back whines and mewls. His traitorous cock hardens under the beating while the rest of him grows sore and uncomfortable and pitiful.

He breaks around fifty or so, whimpering, “Bones, please—”

A chunk of his hair is grabbed, his head’s jerked back, and he gasps in pain, voice cutting off. “Did I give you permission to talk?” Bones snarls, and the hand that isn’t holding him fondles his abused ass, squeezing his reddened cheeks. He grunts and groans under the ministrations, but he doesn’t dare move away. “Last I checked, you were being punished. After rushing down to that planet with hardly any guard when we knew there’d be trouble, don’t you think you deserve to be spanked?”

Unwilling to speak out of turn again, Jim does his best to nod in Bones’ grasp. Bones lets him go and spanks him again, snickering, “Besides, don’t pretend you aren’t gagging for it. You’re such a dirty boy that you love it any time I hit you—we both know you do.” He reaches under to grab Jim’s cock—Jim moans and thrusts his hips into it, only to be squeezed tight enough to hurt. He doesn’t deny anything. He could get off on anything Bones did to him, as long as those hands were on his body...

With a hard tug, Bones drops his cock. Jim bites his lip to not protest. Bones’ hand lands back on Jim’s ass. Bones goes back to spanking him, even more merciless than before, and Jim melts back into stifled whimpers and humiliating moans, writhing in his master’s grip like the sex-toy Bones always turns him into. It’s always that confusing mix; he does love it, but it _hurts_.

He’s another good dozen in when a throat clears in the doorway. Jim’s head whips over, and his eyes widen. Bones’ hand stills. Lifting an eyebrow, Spock informs Jim, “I believe I told you to kneel and wait.”

Jim doesn’t get a chance to respond. He gets one syllable out, and his ass is squeezed, and he shuts up, keening instead.

“I told him to go to sickbay,” Bones snorts. “Looks like he’s in a naughty mood today.” Jim tries to look at Spock, saying with his eyes that he’s sorry.

Spock looks pensive for half a second before strolling over to the bed. Jim has to resist the urge to reach out for him. Bones’ hands have stopped, but they’ve gone back to kneading his sensitive flesh instead, which is just as bad. Spock gingerly touches Jim’s bruised skin, commenting lightly, “You disappoint me when you disobey me, Jim. I should think you know better than that when we are off duty and behind closed doors.”

“I do—ah—” Spock is the one to spank him this time. Spock’s hands are smoother, longer, just as cruel when they want to be, and Jim groans when he means to apologize. He waits to hear what they’ll do to him now that he’s made a mess of things, but instead, Bones simply returns to spanking him relentlessly on one side. To Jim’s mingled horror and pleasure, Spock fills in on the other side. Together they spank both of his cheeks at a jagged rhythm, hard and fast and unpredictable, and Jim cries out more than once, fidgeting and unable to stop his hips from jerking. He really is hard, now, but his eyes are starting to water from the agony of it too, his skin broiling and his knees unwilling to hold him up for this. He doesn’t dare ask them to stop. Not even to touch him. He lets them take him down, spank him raw, to the point that he won’t be able to sit in his chair tomorrow without squirming and thinking of them, even with Bones’ help after. When they’re behind him like this, he can’t even see them, and that doesn’t help. His hands tighten in the blankets—he can’t take much more. 

He nearly cries out in relief when Bones stops, and Spock’s die out into gentle patting—Jim can tell whose hand is whose. Bones’ hand runs over him while Spock’s finishes, and then Spock orders bluntly, “Jim, turn around and put your mouth on Leonard’s cock.” Jim straightens up immediately, more than ready to please. 

He waits for both sets of hands to fall away before he shuffles around, still held up, and even as he leans down to nuzzle into Bones’ tented crotch, he keeps his ass high in the air. It’ll hurt too much to sit on. Both of the other two men are still fully dressed, but Jim’s happy to open Bones’ fly, nuzzling his nose into Bones’ stomach and inhaling Bones’ musky smell. Jim’s already hard from that and being touched, and he knows he won’t be allowed to come until he’s serviced them. He gets Bones’ pants open, and he reaches into them, pulling out a very large, handsome cock. It’s thick and heavy in Jim’s hands, long and chiseled, a work of mammoth beauty. Jim licks his lips before he goes in for a kiss, already hungry for it. 

He’s grabbed by the hair instead, held a centimeter away, and Bones pushes him back to bark, “Suck off Spock.”

Jim blinks. He looks at Spock but gets no help. Bones starts stroking himself, his cock rock solid and lightly beaded at the tip, looking too delicious for Jim to resist. But he knows that Spock’s also well endowed and beautiful from head to toe, so he stares at Spock’s covered crotch just as much, wondering if there’s any way in the universe he could ever fit both men in his mouth. It’s the one time he’s actually a little sad that both his lovers have huge cocks—he knows it won’t be any use. He can barely take them both in his ass at once—his jaw would never make it. 

He finally reaches for Spock’s pants, undoing Spock’s fly, simply because he desperately wants Spock on the same playing field: wants them both as naked as him. As soon as Jim’s gotten Spock’s long, green-veined cock out of those tight uniform pants, he’s grabbed again and thrown down to the bed. He lands on his back, scrambling up onto his elbows. It hurts to have his ass against the mattress, but he doesn’t dare move. 

“Too slow,” Bones tells him with a wicked smirk, while Spock simply looks disapproving, his cock out but untouched. Jim’s is jutting into the air, kept hard by the sight of them but unable to go further with so much confusion in his head. He wants to please both of them, he does, and he opens his mouth to ask _how_ he can, but he’s cut short again. 

“Suck on your fingers and stretch yourself,” Spock orders. It’s so casual that they might as well be on the bridge; Jim nods and shoots his hand right for his mouth. He looks at Bones, begging not to be contradicted, but he can tell from the hungry smirk roaming over him that it won’t be that simple. Jim licks his fingers as much as he can just in case he’s not allowed anything else. 

For once, Bones is the benevolent one. “After the beatings he’s already had today, we should really let him use lube...”

“He does not need it,” Spock insists, staring down at Jim’s body. 

“In my professional opinion, I disagree.”

“He has misbehaved; he should not be treated otherwise.”

“He needs some kind of preparation.”

Spock looks sideways at Bones, one eyebrow lifting before he decides, “I suggest a compromise of preparation, Doctor.” Jim doesn’t know what that means, so he dutifully keeps sucking on his fingers, just in case. 

Spock stays where he is, looking down at Jim as though supervising, while Bones walks over to the set of drawers against the wall. Jim knows exactly what drawer Bones is going for, and he knows that’s not good for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. He pulls his hand from his mouth and trails it down his body, legs spreading, and Spock watches him very carefully as he bypasses his cock, resisting the very strong urge to touch it. He finds his own hole and presses against it as Bones comes over. 

Bones leans over Jim’s stomach and slips a thick metal ring right over his cock. Jim immediately whines, “Oh, no, come on—” But they both look at him so sternly that he shuts his mouth immediately, pouting right back at them. Bones sets the combination for the mechanical cock ring, Spock able to see it but Jim not, so only they can free him. His boyfriends are cruel, sometimes. It makes him less eager to finger himself—he doesn’t need to get any harder than he already is, not if they’re not going to let him finish, but Bones pulls his hand away anyway. Spock pushes his knee down to the bed, spreading his legs wider. 

Both of them crawl right onto the mattress; Jim’s pout instantly flickers into excitement. That can only be good. Maybe they’ll finally play with him. Spock puts a hand on his stomach to hold him down, and Bones leans forward first to kiss the side of Jim’s bound cock. Biting back a moan, Jim has to will his hips not to buck into Bones’ face. Spock’s bow lips open too, but they travel lower, tongue sliding along Jim’s inner thigh. He didn’t think... not when he’s being punished...

But they both do the unthinkable. Bones’ mouth joins Spock, the two of them up close between his legs, their cheeks brushing as they set to work—Jim arches off the bed and lets out the loudest moan yet. Two talented tongues have just snaked out around his hole, one on either side, flicking and laving away at his puckered entrance. Jim half wishes they’d tied his hands up so he couldn’t grab them; he’s so tempted to. His eyes roll up to the ceiling, and then he’s forcing them back down, watching the way Spock’s eyes, half lidded, concentrate on Jim’s ass and the way Bones’ are closed, eyebrows knit together in concentration. He can feel Bones’ slight stubble against his inner thigh, feel Spock’s smooth cheek. Their tongues are more than enough to keep him reeling, but fingers join one at a time, poking and prodding and being licked against him. Jim knows saliva is never really enough lube, but maybe with three coatings of it... and his walls are convulsing on their own, stretching at the brim under the attention. Someone’s blunt fingertip pokes inside him while others stroke his crack, two tongues tracing the seam between finger and ass. If it weren’t for the cock ring, Jim would be in heaven. 

Jim keeps his teeth digging into his lower lip to hold back the screams. It’s torturous, the way they go at him. The finger pops out and another pushes in, and then a tongue replaces it, then two, licking at him from the inside out, wet lips sucking at his entrance. Jim’s blood is rushing faster than it should, breathing erratic. The tongues leave, and two fingers enter, trying to scissor him open, stretching him wide enough to slide a tongue back in between them. Jim’s knees draw up of their own accord, shaking, staying spread. It takes everything he has to keep his hips down. He’s so lucky. Even fully clothed, they’re both so _gorgeous_ , and they’re spending their night with _him,_ even though he’s been a bad, bad boy...

He’s stretched to three fingers, and just like that, they’re leaving, mouths drifting away, and Jim groans loudly, letting his hips twitch. He licks his lips and watches them, hoping, begging with his eyes that they’ll fuck him, one at a time, or even both at once, or one in his mouth and one in his ass, so long as he gets _Spock_ and he gets _Bones_. Spock strokes Jim’s trembling thigh while Bones heads back to the drawer, returning with a large vibrator in the shape of a human cock. A human smaller than Bones, anyway, but Jim knows that Bones is a lucky exception...

It’s still a lot to take with only spit, and Jim scrunches his eyes close while they push it in him, careful, but it’s not careful enough. He’s still raw from being spanked, and now he’ll be sore on the inside too. But he earned that pain. He wants them to get everything off their chests so it’s all clear and good tomorrow. When the vibrator’s as far in as it can go, nestled up right against Jim’s prostate, Bones clicks the button on the end that turns it on. It starts to pulse against Jim’s walls, making him whimper and writhe, and Bones rubs his stomach like a dog while musing, “I suppose that’ll do while we decide who gets to fuck you.” Jim wants to scream: _both, please._

There’s a moment of silence, punctuated only by Jim’s loss of control, Jim’s now-bucking hips and Jim’s breathy whines. Then he’s grabbed by the ankle and jerked abruptly off the bed, so fast that he slams nearly face-first into the floor, catching himself just in time. Spock says simply, “Choose.”

Jim doesn’t need to be told twice. He pushes back up to his knees, and he crawls between them, reaching up on either side to grab each of their cocks. The vibrator keeps pounding into him, and that keeps him heady and desperate. He kisses Bones first, simply because Bones is closer, right on the tip, and then he leans over to lick at Spock’s base, begging each, “I don’t want to pick; can’t you both fuck me? I want you both so badly...” No sooner has Jim started licking precum off Bones’ tip then Spock is leaking, so he darts over to suck at Spock’s spongy head, only to be poked in the cheek by Bones’ again. He wishes they’d stand closer, or that they’d come up on either side of him, sandwiching him tight in the middle. Instead he does his best to dart between then, tasting and sucking two delicious cocks while his ass is worked by a mechanical one. Having his own tied is such torture. 

He stops the second Spock says, “Sit perfectly still and be quiet.”

“No, kiss our feet,” Bones snickers. Spock looks sideways at him, lifting an eyebrow, but they don’t work it out. Jim looks up at them pleadingly. In some ways, making him choose is even worse torture. Don’t they know he loves and wants to obey both of them?

With a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, Jim darts down to peck Bones’ boots as fast as he can. He gives Spock the same treatment, not even lingering long enough to take in the leathery flavour, tongue staying in his mouth. He straightens back into a sitting position and tries not to move so much as a centimeter. 

He knows he’s still disappointed Spock, and he tries not to look up for just that reason. 

Bones opens his mouth, but before he can say whatever it is, a communication comes through over the speakers: _“Captain Kirk to the bridge, please.”_ It’s Sulu’s voice.

Shit.

Jim whimpers. The other two handle it better, tucking themselves back in against the protest of Jim’s whines.

Spock steps over to a wall console and depresses the button, responding evenly, “The captain is indisposed. Will I suffice?”

There’s a slight pause, though Sulu will have definitely recognized Spock’s voice. Jim wants to speak up—he can’t just let them run his ship—but with the vibrator plundering his hole, he knows he wouldn’t be able to talk straight. Sulu finally decides, _“Yes, that should do. Thank you, Sir.”_ The communicator clicks off, and Spock takes his hand off the button. 

Bones says, “I’ll go with you.” Jim looks up at him, surprised. That isn’t necessary, and they can’t just leave him alone. 

Evidently, they’re going to. 

At the door to the bedroom, Bones points at him and says firmly. “Stay. You aren’t to move a single muscle from that position, you hear me?” Jim nods, whimpering. 

Spock says calmly, “Retrieve the Vulcan-shaped vibrator from the drawer, replace your current size with it, turn it on, and wait for our return.” Jim’s mouth falls open. Given that there was no lube in that order, he supposes he should be glad he wasn’t ordered to get the Klingon one, but he still feels horribly torn. 

The two of them leave while Jim sits there, sore ass continually being pounded into. It’s better than the mess in his head; he thinks he might cry from frustration.

* * *

When Bones comes back an hour later, he finds Jim in the same spot, the same position, but not exactly still, because he can’t help squirming. 

All he can think about is that his boyfriends are assholes and he wants them to fuck him more than anything in the universe.

Bones is the one that always tells him not to talk when he’s being punished, but Jim can’t care at this point. Bones kneels down in front of him, and Jim bursts into whimpers and begging. “Bones, _please_ , I can’t take it anymore—I can’t believe you left me here so long! I know I shouldn’t have gone on that mission, but seriously! This is insane—I can’t take it! I—I...” He trails off, nearly frantic. The vibrator’s still going. Bones shoves his chest lightly; he falls onto his back, grunting more at the impact on his still-sore ass than anything, and he spreads his legs so Bones can see. 

“You got the bigger one,” Bones comments lightly. Jim wants to cry. What was he supposed to do? This is easily the most maddening punishment he’s ever had. Bones pulls him back up by the neck, nearly choking, and Jim’s left spluttering for air while Bones grabs his cock. It’s rock hard and leaking and purplish, and it’s starting to ache worse than his ass. Bones types the combination into the cock ring; Jim can hear it releasing. It stays on him, unlocked. He’s about to fall into a litany of gratitude when Bones says, “You’ve been naughty. You can’t come.” And Bones stands right back up, straightens out his shirt, and strolls over to the washroom. The door clicks shut behind him. 

Jim makes a scream of aggravation and wants to beat his head against the floor. He doesn’t dare touch the ring. He knows that as soon as it’s off, he’ll come all over the floor. But the monster cock inside him is still pounding away, and it’s sheer torture. He’s never going to go on another away mission again. 

It’s barely a minute later when Spock strolls in, and Jim has to resist the urge to crawl over to him and beg for mercy. Jim’s shaking. Spock, as always, appears completely unaffected by his condition. Spock kneels down and gestures; Jim leans back down to his elbows and spreads his legs. Spock dons a small, rare smile, and glances at the unlocked cock ring. 

He gets to his feet. Jim straightens up. Spock pets Jim’s hair, and Jim wants to nuzzle right into it, nuzzle into Spock’s crotch, suck Spock off while Bones takes his ass. Spock decides, “You have been good. You may come.”

Jim’s hand darts out, freezes in midair, and he hears Bones’ gruff voice in his head forbidding him to. He makes a choking noise, and he breaks.

He looks up at Spock, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes and streaming down his cheeks, and he opens his mouth, but doesn’t know what to beg for. He’s been told he can come. But he wants them both happy about it. They’ve always been happy together before. He wants them both so badly that his pleasured moans have become groans of anguish, and the pounding in his ass drowns out into the background; all he sees is Bones coming out of the washroom and looking at Jim, then Spock.

Bones and Spock share significant looks, and Jim sincerely hopes that what they’re feeling is guilt. They’re eviler than Klingons. 

Surprisingly, Bones is the first to grunt, looking a tad sheepish, “Maybe we’ve put him through enough.”

Spock nods slowly, gaze turning back to Jim. Jim mumbles through his sobs, “I-I’m sorry... but _please_ stop!”

“Have you learned your lesson about listening?” Spock asks, hands folding behind his back.

“Especially to your superiors, title or not, _Captain_ ,” Bones adds. He almost never calls Jim that; it goes straight to Jim’s gut. He nods so fast he might get whiplash. 

Another look passes between them. 

Then they sit down on either side of him, both of their hands go to his cock, and he doesn’t even know who finally pulls the ring off. He doesn’t care. He looks at both of them, and he screams, and he comes immediately, exploding between them so hard that he splashes both their legs and his own stomach. His body curls in, his mind blanking, the torrential ecstasy momentarily washing clean all the pain, leaving just _pleasure_ in its wake. Jim writhes with it, lives in it, doesn’t ever want to leave that moment, and he barely even registers the vibrator stopping and one of them pulling it out. He’s empty and he’s sore and he feels so, _so good_. He seems to come for hours. 

What’s probably only a minute or two later, he slumps forward, incredibly grateful when they both catch him, warm, loving arms all around him. He mumbles numbly, “Sorry, so sorry...” And he wants to kiss them, but right now he can’t fathom picking who to kiss first. 

“It’s okay,” Bones tells him softly, brushing back his hair and keeping him warm all over. “You’re almost done...”

Jim’s head snaps up, and he mumbles, wide-eyed, “Almost?” He looks at Spock, whose eyes slip significantly at his own lap. Jim pulls back a few centimeters—both Bones and Spock are hard again. He tries not to think about how they dealt with their first rounds before getting on the bridge—doesn’t want to think about them without him. 

He should be exhausted. He should be thinking about his bruised and broken ass, so used already that it’s throbbing as much as the vibrator did. He should say no, but instead he nods eagerly and sighs, “Where do you want me?”

“The bed,” Spock tells him, before leaning over to peck his cheek. 

“The bed,” Bones chuckles. “We’ll both take you.”

Jim’s not even sure if that or them agreeing is what makes his heart leap, but he’s so relieved he could cry. Again. The last round is still dribbling away, and he goes to wipe off his wet cheeks, but Bones and Spock hold his hands and do it for him. He gets a kiss on either side. 

He kisses them back in no particular order. They don’t comment on it; they just rub his back and tell him he’s been good. He feels like he’s in zero gravity. 

He floats over to the bed, blissful when they _both_ come with him.


End file.
